Just as Edmund had mentioned earlier, he couldn’t spend too long having lunch with Primrose because he needed to get back to training the young soldiers, making sure they were strong enough to survive when winter came.
Since Primrose hadn’t finished her meal yet, she remained in the training hall, quietly sitting at the edge of the field as her gaze lingered on Edmund as he returned to the field.
His white shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows, showing off the solid muscles of his forearms.
Every movement made the muscles under the fabric flex and shift, reminding Primrose just how firm they felt every time she touched him.
She bit her lower lip, suddenly realizing in that moment that her husband was far more tempting to look at than the sandwich she still held in her hand.
If she had known Edmund would look this irresistibly hot while training, she would have made excuses to visit the training grounds much more often.
"Your Majesty, your sandwich is about to fall."
Solene’s voice jolted her from her daze, and Primrose blinked rapidly, realizing she had been staring far too intently at her husband while her sandwich dangled carelessly from her hand.
Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment as she quickly straightened up. "Ah, thank you, Lady Solene."
Solene chuckled softly, then thought to herself, [I really thought Her Majesty would feel scared after seeing how fierce and brutal the beasts look during military training.]
But ... it seems she’s actually enjoying the view quite a lot.
Primrose’s cheeks burned hotter, turning bright red the moment she realized her shameless thoughts had been noticed by those around her.
Flustered, she hurried to finish the rest of her lunch and tugged at Solene to take her away before her husband’s irresistible hotness drove her completely out of control.
"Husband, I’ll be going now!" Primrose shouted, waving her hand enthusiastically at him.
Edmund, still holding the wooden sword, glanced her way. The fierce look in his eyes softened instantly the moment he saw her smile. With a small nod, he lifted his free hand and gave her a short wave in return.
The young soldiers froze on the spot, staring wide-eyed at the sight.
[What ... what is this? What kind of sorcery is this?!]
[Why is His Majesty acting like a lovesick teenage boy?!]
Primrose giggled to herself, her heart fluttering at the simple gesture. Even in the middle of training, her husband never forgot to look her way.
Amid the noise of other people’s thoughts, Primrose suddenly caught Edmund’s voice in her head. [Do you want me to carry you back to your room? What if your feet get hurt on the way?]
Primrose simply shook her head, as if to assure Edmund that she would be fine. After all, her feet hadn’t given her any trouble when she walked to the training ground earlier, and they certainly wouldn’t now.
Edmund spoke into her mind again. [Alright, then. Be careful on your way back.] He hesitated before adding, [And ... I’m sorry. I forgot to return your wedding ring. I left it in my office drawer. You can go and take it now, if you’d like.]
The shelf felt stronger than before, a clear sign that Edmund had made sure it wouldn’t topple over on her again.
Then she paused, frowning at herself. "Honestly, what am I even doing?"
Why was she so desperate to spy on her own husband? Wasn’t being able to read his mind already more than enough?
On top of that, they each had their own spying devices, so what reason did she really have to dig through his diaries?
"I’m such a terrible wife," she murmured to herself as she returned the last book onto the shelf.
Not long after, Primrose finally felt her feet starting to ache a little, so she wandered over to Edmund’s desk chair and sat down. She gave a few playful little bounces, smiling to herself as she tested how soft and comfortable the cushion was.
Primrose couldn’t resist leaning back in the chair, letting out a small hum of satisfaction, and soon realized it still carried a faint trace of Edmund’s scent.
Her eyes slowly drifted toward his desk, where several piles of documents sat untouched or half-opened at the corner of the table.
Primrose leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk as her eyes settled on the messy stacks of papers. Without thinking, she reached for the folder that looked the most used, curious to see what kind of workload her husband had been drowning in.
However, the moment she flipped it open she found several small red notebooks tucked among the documents.
Her eyes widened. Oh ... could these be his bad diaries?
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